Bram and Chippy, Blue and Fisher, plus the previously unnamed horse and mule now known as Greedy and Ears, reached the border of Elsmere and took one more day to arrive at the new Merhaven, pausing above it at the top of a last gentle rise before the long descent into the sea. Below them, a new town spread across the flanks of the mountains and along the shores of an expansive bay, a bay vastly wider than the ones shown on their maps and extending southward to a dim shoreline above which a separate town was perched.
“Merhaven and South Merhaven,” murmured the horse.
The map had shown Merhaven as a single town that had made an arc along the gentle slope of the bay’s north side, nearest them, and extended along the narrow shelf edging the eastern, inner curve.
Abasio pointed toward this inner curve. “That side was steeper. There was just a narrow shelf beneath that wing of the town; water covered it. They couldn’t move up, so they moved to the far side of the bay.”
“They’ve cut a road to join the two,” Xulai said, following his gaze toward the curved gash that had been chopped into the steep eastern slope and around it onto the southern shore. Though the evening light was fading, the new road showed as a lighter ribbon against the green of the hill.
Below them, wooden piers protruded into the water among a clutter of the small fishing boats that had plied the bay and the nearby shorelines of the ocean for generations. One large, seagoing ship was moored at the end of the longest pier. Though it bore the pennant of Tingawa, no one moved upon it or near it. The other little ships had men around them; nets were being strung up to dry among the spars and masts; people were moving about along the piers, along the shore, up and down the unpaved streets of the new town. Evidently there had been time to salvage building materials from the drowned town, for many of the newly built structures were of brick or stone. Abasio guessed they had been taken apart piece by piece and reassembled. That the reassembly was temporary was evidenced by the fact that none of the houses had gardens, none had landscaped surroundings. They had simply been plopped down on hastily leveled plots of ground, roadways scraped out leading to them, and only time would tell whether they would stay settled in place or be pulled into pieces to be reassembled again, somewhere higher.
“Genieve,” said Xulai. “Falyrion’s sister. That’s where we ought to go.”
“What’s the name of her house?”
“The Watch House. It’s supposed to have a watchtower.”
Abasio pointed across the bay. “Over there, the white one. It’s the only one with a tower. And it hasn’t been moved; it’s been there all along. Look at the trees around it.”
It stood straight across from them, alone, a white house behind a buttressed wall, the whole a massive white fist, one tower sticking up like a finger raised to test the wind.
“There’s supposed to be a Tingawan something here,” Xulai said. “Precious Wind told me. It’s an office of some kind; not an embassy, that’s in Ghastain near the court of King Gahls. Before the Sea King declared war, a lot of ships came here from Tingawa.”
“A commercial office,” he said. “Do you want to try for the Watch House tonight? It’s getting on for dark.”
“There’s only one road around the bay,” she replied. “We’re not likely to get lost.”
“If they have a stable and hay, I vote we go there,” said Blue.
“I could go take a look,” Fisher offered.
“Good idea,” said Abasio.
Wings took off in a flurry; a dark arrow sped across the sky, over the waters, losing itself in the distance. Abasio got out his glasses and focused on the distant tower. “Where would he go?”
“To the stables,” she replied. “That’s what Blue is concerned about.”
“Justifiably,” snorted the horse.
“They must be behind the house,” Abasio said. “I can’t see where he went.”
They moved slowly down the hill through an evening hush. Below them, people were going home. Chimneys were beginning to smoke. Near the curved sliver of moon, one star gleamed brilliantly against the blue. A flurry of wings came again.
A hawk settled on Xulai’s shoulder to defeather and refur itself. Fisher said, “Stables, hay, oats, only one horse there, room for half a dozen. Somebody’s in the house, there’s smoke from the chimney.”
“Let’s ride for it,” said Abasio.
They trotted down the hill, angling to their left to arrive at the road around the bay without going through any part of the town. Once on the narrow though well-graded road, Blue broke into a canter, Greedy reluctantly following, grunting with each footfall. Ears was made of more resilient stuff, following silently without making a fuss about it. He was lightly laden. They had eaten almost all their food, and the mule carried only their blankets and tent together with a few odds and ends. It was full dark when they reached the far side of
